


Reunion

by sadsongssaysomuch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadsongssaysomuch/pseuds/sadsongssaysomuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean and Sam stop off at a motel after too long on the road, all Dean wants to do is sleep. When someone from his past knocks on the door, poor Dean doesn't get any rest at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

Dean Winchester was tired. They had been on the road for too long and had just gotten done cleaning out a nest of vampires. That Sam wasn’t as exhausted as him was baffling but he was too beat to put much thought into it.

“You sure you don’t want to come with me?” Sam didn’t flash the puppy-dog eyes but Dean knew he was disappointed.

“Nah, you go out and have fun Sammy, I’m gonna crash.”

“OK, I’ll see you later then.”

Sam walked out the door and Dean locked it behind him. All he wanted to do was sink down on the bed, maybe turn on the magic fingers and sleep for a week. However he was spattered with blood and smelling none too fresh, so a shower was in order first.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and began to remove his clothes. He took off his boots first, then his jacket and shirt, tossing them to the floor. Standing up, Dean shucked off his jeans next, adding them to the pile on the floor. Then his t-shirt followed leaving Dean in just his underwear. He stripped those off quickly and headed for the bathroom.

It was a typical motel bathroom, dark, dingy, and not very impressive. Dean tried not to look at anything too closely and cranked up the hot water, letting it run for a minute before stepping in the shower. The scalding water felt good on his sore muscles and he stood, hands against the wall, head bowed under the stream for a long time. He soaped up and got clean, glad to wash off the road dirt and gunk from the hunt. The warm water made him feel even more tired and he hurried through washing his hair and rinsing off. Once he felt clean, he shut off the water and reached for a towel. “What the hell,” Dean muttered. There weren’t any towels in the bathroom.

Dean muttered a stream of obscenities as he dripped his way from the bathroom to the bedroom. He stood for a moment, water rolling off his body as he tried to decide between crawling into bed wet or getting dressed wet. Before he could decide there was a loud knocking at the door.

He frowned, it was probably Sam. Dean stood slightly behind the door, the heavy summer heat rolling over him as he opened it. “Sammy, did you forget your key?” He had the door halfway open, a smile on his face.

“I never had a key and I’m not Sammy,” came a distinctly feminine voice.

Dean immediately shook off any tiredness he had been feeling and his smile turned to a frown. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?” he asked gruffly, peeking around the door.

The person standing there was most definitely not Sam. And most definitely a chick. She was tall, only slightly shorter than Dean and she was stacked. Her curvy body was packed into a pair of tight jeans and a familiar looking faded black t-shirt. Dean was willing to bet she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her hair was a riot of short messy curls, mostly black with a few pink streaks mixed in.  In her arms were two bath towels. Despite his annoyance he couldn’t help but grin. “Son of a bitch, Lark! I haven’t seen you since…” Dean trailed off, he couldn’t actually remember the last time he had seen Lark. But he hadn’t forgotten her either.

“Dean Winchester! I had no idea this was your room, I didn’t see the Impala out front. What happened to it?”

“If Sam values his life nothing had better have happened to it!” Dean’s voice raised an octave out of concern for the Impala. Taking a breath he continued, “I mean, yeah I still have it, Sam used it to head to that bar we passed on the way here. What was it called, The Buck?” Dean knew Sam would be careful but he had nearly had a heart attack at the implication that something had happened to his baby.

Lark laughed. “Calm down dude. I’m sure your car is fine and I’m sorry I missed seeing Sam. You can tell him I said hi. I’m staying in the room next door, I just wanted to ask if could borrow your shower. Mine isn’t working and I really don’t want to ask the guy at the desk. He creeped me out.”

Dean chuckled at that. “Yeah, that guy was a little off. I uh, I guess you can use the shower if you want.” Forgetting he was naked, Dean eased the door open a little more.

“Whoa there tiger! Your shower might work but I’m guessing they didn’t stock your room with towels!”

“Fuck!” Dean tried to slam the door, but the girl just laughed and shoved a foot forward, preventing him from closing the door.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed on my account. Here,” she said, tossing Dean one of her towels.

He caught it and quickly wrapped it around his waist. Once he was covered, he opened the door the rest of the way motioning for Lark to come inside. Dean couldn’t help but notice that she never took her eyes off of him.  “Yeah, so the shower’s through there. And uh, thanks for the towel.”

Lark smiled. “So I’ll just use the shower quick and then be out of your way, is that cool?” Her brown eyes drilled into Dean and he suddenly was very aware that all he had on was a towel and that she had probably gotten an eyeful before he had put the towel on.

Dean swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah. Shower’s over there, and it works, hot water and everything.” He tried to be nonchalant.

“I guess it does,” she quipped, gesturing towards Dean before walking into the small bathroom. She shut the door behind her and left Dean standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Dean heard the shower start up and a few seconds later the bathroom door opened just enough so Lark could fling her clothes out of the room before shutting the door again. Curiosity got the better of Dean. He picked up her clothes, noting that he was right, there was no bra. He grinned when he realized the faded black t-shirt had at one time been emblazoned with Led Zeppelin across the chest. And Dean was right in thinking it had looked familiar, it was his shirt. Lark must have taken it the last time they were together; he had wondered where that shirt went. Along with the jeans and Zep shirt there was a tiny pair of black cotton panties. They were still warm and Dean held them for a moment, imagining Lark naked in the shower just a few feet away.

Shit, he hadn’t realized how horny he was. It had been a long time, he couldn’t even remember the last chick he had fucked. Maybe that blonde from that bar in Tallahassee? He wasn’t sure but he knew it had been too long. He hadn’t even had a chance to jerk off properly what with being stuck in the Impala with Sammy for so long. Common sense told Dean he should get dressed and wait until Lark left so he could take care of business. But the longer he stood there holding those panties the less Dean was thinking with his brain. He couldn’t help but remember how hot the sex had been the last time he had hooked up with Lark. What was that, like a year and a half ago? He had picked her up in a bar and they had ended up in a motel room not that different from the one he stood in now.

He was still standing there, panties in hand, cock hard under the thin white towel when Lark came out of the bathroom. Her hair was still wet and she was wearing a towel wrapped around her just as Dean was.

Dean dropped the panties like they were on fire, as he was sure his cheeks were. He kicked the small black scrap towards the rest of the pile of Lark’s clothes. He was grateful that his back was to Lark. “Uh, I…” he stuttered, trying to think of a good reason for what he had been doing. He turned his head towards Lark, keeping his body turned towards the wall, hoping to hide his obvious erection from her.

Lark looked at Dean, her mouth turning up in a sexy smirk. “You can keep them if you really want.”

“Huh, what?” Dean tried to play dumb. “I was just looking at your, I mean  _MY_ shirt–

“Listen, I’m just giving you shit, I shouldn’t have imposed. Thanks for the shower and I’ll just go. I’ll need to get that towel back though.” Her voice held a teasing note that Dean found incredibly sexy. He heard a rustling that he assumed was Lark picking up her discarded clothing.

What the hell, Dean thought to himself. Maybe he could get lucky, she certainly hadn’t minded fucking him before. He turned towards Lark, and fixed his gaze on her. He strode across the short distance between them and stopped directly in front of her, by the door. “You can stay.” Dean kept his voice steady, neither asking or ordering, just stating. As an afterthought he added, “But if you want the towel, you’ll have to take it from me.” He shot Lark one of his trademark grins.

Lark dropped her dirty laundry and met Dean’s mocking glance dead on. They locked eyes for a moment before her hand dropped to his groin, still hard and straining against the towel. “I was hoping you’d extend the invitation. Seems like that’s not all that’s extended.”

Dean licked his lips and ground into her palm with a groan before yanking her hand up and pressing it against the wall, next to her head. He slammed his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss, forcing his tongue inside, finding hers ready and waiting. She tasted just like he remembered, sweet like cherry pie.

Lark scoured her nails down his chest and he hissed, dropping the towel and freeing his cock. The next second her ass was in his hands and her legs were wrapped around his waist and he plunged into her with no warning.

_God!_ How was she so fucking tight and wet? He felt like he could lose himself inside that slickness, and he slammed her up against the wall, hard enough that the shitty painting of a landscape hanging there fell to the carpet with a muffled thud. Lark flung her head back and rolled her hips against him, her nails digging into his back.

“More!” She ground out, her breath leaving in heaving pants.

He thrust into her again and again, slamming their bodies into the wall, making both of them moan.

She was meeting his thrusts head on, using the muscles in her thighs to pull him against her. Dean knew they’d both be bruised tomorrow but he didn’t care. He wrapped one arm underneath her ass to keep supporting her and snaked the other hand in between them to rub her clit.

Lark whimpered wordlessly and Dean groaned in satisfaction at the sound of it.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice gruff as he stopped the motion of both his hips and hands. “Say it!”

Her mouth opened and closed and then the words spilled out, those words that made him slam into her with renewed force, made him twice as hard and twice as desperate to push her over the edge.

“Dean…” her voice was low pitched and needy. “Oh, god, oh god, now…now…please…please…do it now!’

She flung her head back against the wall, and he ground his fingers and his hips against her and dropped his head down to suck on her nipple. “Yes, goddammit! Yes!” He flicked her clit one more time and then she came, wailing and writhing and squeezing around his cock.

Before she had stopped clenching around him, Dean paused only long enough to hitch Lark’s legs around his waist and dropped them both onto the bed. The threadbare comforter bunched under Lark as she flipped over to her stomach and crawled to the head of the bed.

She looked back over her shoulder and gave Dean a look that made him grit his teeth to keep from coming right then. She got onto her knees and grasped the wooded slats of the headboard tightly in her fists, her head slightly bowed.

In a second, he was behind her, his body flush against hers, and he used his knee to push her legs far enough apart. He gripped his cock in one hand, and then he was sliding into her again, feeling her tight wetness once more.

Dean wrapped one arm around her waist and used the other to anchor himself to the headboard. He pulled out until only the very tip of his cock was inside her and then hesitated for one eternal second before driving forward while simultaneously jerking her back against him, burying himself balls deep in her body.

“Fuck!” he ground out, wanting to draw this out, but knew he wouldn’t be able to. He settled for plowing into her as hard as he could, feeling her body seize every time he thrust into her, watching her fists clench and release the wooden headboard.

He was so close now his body was shaking with tension and he drove in deep, gripping her hip to keep her tight against him.

He tilted her pelvis up slightly and reached one hand under her to flick her clit, hearing her whimpers turn to guttural moans beneath him. She rocked up into him, spurring him on and he answered her challenge, plunging back into her once, twice, three times before feeling her walls tighten around him, pulling him over the edge with her.

“Son of a bitch!” he rasped out as they collapsed, his body weight falling heavily on her. For a long minute neither of them moved, and then he tilted his head just slightly to press his lips against her shoulder before rolling off her. He stared at the water stained ceiling, his chest heaving as he struggled to regulate his breathing.

Through his post-orgasmic haze, Dean smirked, glad it had been Lark at the door and not Sam as he had first thought.

She flopped her head to the side and stared at him. “We may have fucked up the room.”

He lifted his head to stare past the end of the bed to the wall. The picture still lay on the floor but the wall was none the worse for wear.  He let his head drop back to the pillow. “Eh, I’ll hang that back up later.”

She was still watching him, her eyes unblinking.

He sucked in a deep breath and rolled himself into a sitting position, letting his hand rest against her back. “What did I do to deserve this?” he asked rhetorically.

“It felt like the thing to do. I’m all for living in the moment,” Lark laughed.

“Aren’t we all?”

Dean looked down at Lark’s naked body, damp now from their exertions. He began to run a hand over Lark’s back, down to her ass. Her skin felt smooth under his calloused palms. Despite the tiredness he had felt Dean couldn’t resist the temptation of the hot piece of ass in front of him. He felt himself growing hard again and he eased himself down next to Lark, propping himself on one elbow.

She rolled onto her side, giving Dean a view of her amazing breasts. He leaned down and planted soft kisses along Lark’s neck and chest. Then, reaching out, using his free hand to squeeze her breasts, pinching the nipples before leaning down and taking first one then the other into his mouth. Lark’s eyes closed and she moaned as Dean’s mouth latched around her left nipple, his tongue swirling gently. He chuckled softly as her back arched before moving his lips to her right nipple, giving it the same attention. She moaned each time Dean’s lips made contact with her skin. 

Lark’s head fell back against the pillow and her eyes stayed closed as Dean trailed kisses upwards from her breasts. He grazed his teeth on her neck and kissed his way to her lips. Dean nipped at Lark’s lower lip gently and chuckled as she let out a small moan against his mouth and returned his kiss softly. Dean knew his kisses were having the desired effect when Lark reached down, her fingers grazing Dean’s stomach to grab his hard cock. Dean gasped as her fingers made contact. When she began stroking him he couldn’t help but groan, rolling his hips towards her.

Lark opened her eyes and smiled seductively at him. Dean returned the smile and whispered huskily in her ear. “You ready for round two, babe?”

Then Lark was on top of Dean, her body fitting against his in all the right places, nothing separating their bodies. She kissed him urgently, biting and sucking at his lips. Dean returned her kisses with ferocity. He ran his hands over her shoulders and down to her hips, resting there as her kisses drew a moan from his lips. Holding Lark’s hips Dean ground against her, feeling her warmth against his cock. The moans this elicited from Lark only made Dean harder. He could feel Lark arch her back, enjoying the feel of her rubbing against his cock. With one movement, Lark rose up and then slid down onto Dean’s hard cock. She began rocking her hips back & forth slowly, grasping the headboard and leaning over Dean so that he could still reach her breasts.  

The last thing on Dean’s mind was the ungodly banging the headboard was making against the motel wall. He let Lark set the pace, and she started out slow but her speed soon increased. Lark was riding Dean hard, and he loved it. They took their time, not as frenzied as the first time, but still just as intense.

Dean lavished her neck and breasts in wet kisses. Their hips moved in harmony while her moans were lost among his own.

Dean slid his hands down Lark’s sides, grasping her hips, allowing himself to get deeper. She arched her back and moaned louder than before and Dean could feel her climax rapidly approaching.

Grunts and groans escaped Dean’s lips while he continued to kiss Lark with the same passion as before. His fingers dug into Lark’s hips, probably leaving more bruises, her movements growing more erratic with each passing second. Lark panted heavily against his lips, Dean’s tongue reaching out to taste the sweetness of her mouth.

Dean tried to concentrate making himself last until he heard Lark’s moans turn into breathless screams and then her breath finally hitched and her body shuddered as her orgasm took over. Dean could hold back no longer, his thrusts becoming shallower and quicker, and then finally gave one last, hard thrust. “Fuck, Lark!” he shouted huskily as he came. Lark dropped against him, her head on his chest, their bodies still joined, both of them panting.

“That was quite the reunion,” she finally managed to say. “I take it you missed me,” she said with a laugh.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Dean answered with a weak chuckle. He felt the exhaustion creeping back into his bones. He really needed sleep now. He wasn’t sure he wanted Lark to leave but he knew Sam would be back eventually. She had said she was sorry to have missed Sam but he wasn’t sure he was ready for that level of awkwardness.

"You alright?" Lark asked as her eyes roamed over Dean’s naked body.

He nodded, his hand reaching out to rest against Lark’s cheek in a rare moment of tenderness. “I couldn’t be better,” he smiled, “just tired.” Lark buried her face in Dean’s chest and he breathed in the clean scent of her hair. Lark closed her eyes and Dean smiled wider, letting out a soft sigh. I’ll just lay here while I catch my breath, he thought to himself.

   

~   ~   ~   ~   ~   ~   ~   ~

The next thing Dean heard was the slamming of the motel room door followed by Sam’s cheerful voice. “I’m back Dean. And I brought you some pie.”

Dean bolted upright, disoriented and still tired. “Dude, Sam, what the hell?”

Sam laughed, giving Dean a strange look. “What the hell yourself, put some clothes on!”

Dean looked down, realizing he still hadn’t gotten dressed. Lark had left, taking her towels along with her. “Shit,” he muttered, wrapping the threadbare comforter around himself and getting up to dig through his duffle bag for something clean to put on.

Mercifully, Sam kept his back turned until Dean was decent. “So, you were that tired you passed out before you got dressed? What happened to the picture? Was there an earthquake?” Sam joked as he returned the landscape to the wall.

“Uh, yeah, something like that,” Dean said, scratching his head. When the hell had Lark left? He supposed he should be grateful Sam hadn’t walked in on the two of them going at it. Maybe he had dreamed it. As Dean bent down to return his duffle to the floor, a small scrap of black cotton caught his eye. Lark’s panties. With a secretive smile, Dean picked them up and tucked them into his pocket, ignoring Sam’s confused look.

“So, you said there was pie?” Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Sam expectantly.

“Sure man, here,” Sam handed Dean the Styrofoam takeout container and a plastic fork.

Dean popped it open, inhaling deeply. Cherry, his favorite. He took a big bite, savoring the sweetness. It reminded him of Lark and he felt a blush creep into his cheeks. He noticed Sam watching him with concern on his face.

“Hey, Dean, you feeling alright? You look a little flushed.”

Dean swallowed, trying not to choke on the pie. “I’m good Sammy. By the way, Lark said to tell you hi.”


End file.
